Fallout: Nuclear Winter Wasteland
by Paintpaws
Summary: The world was bathed in atomic light, nothing was left untouched. Expect the vaults. What used to be the United Kingdom is now stuck in a permanent, icy nuclear winter. It's cold, wet and dangerous, so unlike the vaults where humanity was stored. So when others are forced to face the blizzards, they must adjust to the bitterness of the wastes. Fast. ((Fallout in the UK/England))
1. The Caravan Guards

_Author's note: This story is based the Fallout universe set in the UK, using real places. There are some headcannons about how the UK faired in the Great War and some differences in how society has rebuilt it'self. Differences include the use of bottle caps, the interference of Enclave and the FEV and the behaviour and quirks of ghouls. There are also different mutated creatures but, like I said before, no super mutants. Some differences will be explained more clearly later on but some of them are just how society has rebuilt it'self compared to the USA. _

_Thank you for your time, this is my first fallout fic and I hope you enjoy reading. _

* * *

"We have to keep moving, before the sleet sets in."

The group around the campfire looked up at the caravan guard who had spoken, dark haired and pale skinned. He looked back at them from the boarded up window he was peering out of.

"Lighten up Arthur," Another guard said calmly as she warmed her gloved hands on the fire, "Have something to eat, relax. We'll make it."

Arthur pursed his lips and turned to the window. The cracks between the boards showed the remains of what used to be a high street, once filled with busy shoppers but was now nothing more then rows of crumbling buildings. They were staying in one of the more sturdy ones, but even then Arthur could feel the cold air biting at his face through the window. He lifted his grey scarf over his mouth and nose and sighed, letting his own breath warm his face.

"Laura's right Arthur, you don't get your rest, you'll never survive the cold." The caravan's merchant said. He turned the mutated pigeon spit roast over the fire, the meat of the bird turning brown. "If the sleet's too bad we'll just hold up here, see what we can find."

"I'd love to check out that pier." A third guard said absent mindedly prodding the fire with a stick.

"Oh yeah Robert, and when you fall into the irradiated sea I ain't gonna be the one to pull your arse out." Laura snapped, but then laughed.

The merchant smiled then turned back to Arthur, who was still looking at the sleet. "Sit down kid, you're making the place look untidy." He took one of the legs off of a bird roast, "Have some pigeon, it's good for you."

Arthur stared out into the street for a while longer before coming back to the fire to take a pigeon drumstick. It had a gamy taste but he was used to it, living off irradiated wildlife was part of the job. The group of four chatted about adventure and told stories that they had learned, most of which had been told between them many times before.

Robert meanwhile, was only half in the conversations. Between eating and talking he was tinkering with a radio he had picked up earlier, hoping to find a station that still worked after two hundred years. Yet to the surprise of the four, underneath the crackles of static, they could hear a voice.

"That was... by... now do... the..." The voice was faint, by it sent the group silent, Robert turned some dials until the voice became clear.

"...Somehow one of those gangs managed to convince their overseer to open the vault doors. The poor idiot, 'cause now he's screwed over the ones he's meant to be protecting, or she, but either way. Not too sure why they trusted an outsider like that, but it hasn't been good for them." The voice was smooth and crisp, a women was speaking.

"My reports are saying that about a dozen of the vault dwellers just bolted, ran off into the wastes. In my opinion, they're all screwed, I hear they've got central heating down in those vaults, none of that up here." She laughed, the group exchanged looks. "But seriously, if one of you vault dwellers can here me then stay warm, stay protected and stay safe. And if any good people can hear me then help these poor souls. Remember these guys aren't fresh meat, they're just baby birds fresh out the nest, have a heart. Now for tonight we have some classics so stay tuned and have a good night, I'll see you in the morning, goodnight Southend!"

A pre-recorded advertisement jingle played before a piano based song began to play. The group looked down mournfully at the radio, Laura sighed.

"Poor bastards." She muttered, looking away.

Robert looked up hopefully at the merchant, "Do you know where that vault is?"

"You're getting paid to keep me and my goods safe, not to go off and play hero." The merchant growled. "It's their fault for opening the doors, the could have stayed down there until the world ended and been safe."

"They already did." Arthur murmured, he threw the rest of his drumstick into the fire, suddenly not feeling very hungry.

Laura tsked, "Poor bastards." She repeated, she sat back and rested her hands to the ground and stared into the fire. The remaining meat on the bone bubbling and blackening before melting away into nothingness.

Robert sighed and turned the radio's volume down. The women had said she wouldn't speak again until the morning but he didn't want to hear any 'breaking news' about the vault's residence.

The merchant sighed, realising that he may of upset the three guards. "Look kids, if we run into any vaulties then we'll let them tag along, sound fair?"

The guards agreed, Arthur stood and returned to the window. The sleet had started to settle, it was around an inch or so thick on the ground. He frowned, he could of sworn he'd heard a distant bang.

"Turn the radio off." He commanded, Robert frowned but knew the tone of Arthur's voice, he switched the radio off. The group fell silent, they listened.

_Bang bang bang_

Arthur turned back to the group with alarm, the gunfire was distant but had echoed down the street, bouncing of the shop ruins. Laura and Robert got the their feet, guns in hands, Arthur took the hunting rifle from his back.

"Get the horse indoors." The merchant hissed. Laura lent against the door back into the wastes and peered out before opening it and leading a speckled horse in through the shop doors. Arthur held one door open and quickly surveyed the outside.

The merchant took the horse's reigns and stroked it's neck in an attempt to prevent it from making noise. Robert stamped the fire out and Arthur retook his place at the window, Laura pointed her assault rifle at the door.

"Come out come out where ever you are." A voice echoed down the high street.

Somehow the group became more quite, yet everything they did seemed loud, their breathing, every squeak of their leather armour. They waited.

Arthur could hear multiple footsteps now. He pulled his scarf over his face to muffle his breathing and leaned away from the boarded up window. The soft splattering sound of many pairs boots on sleet was get closer.

"Come out and play." A second, female voice called out.

"We'll find you." A third voice added.

A raider ran into view and slid on the mushy sleet, he came to a stop and twirled around, "Where are you, you fancy little git."

"Come on, we won't stain your pretty little suit." Another raider said as she came into view.

Arthur frowned, so they're looking for a vault dweller, he thought. He looked back over to Robert, who looked as though he'd come to the same conclusion.

It's like a game to them, Robert thought bitterly, A hunt, the thrill of the chase and the kill. He shook his head, not wanting to get too passionate over people he couldn't help

"Oh come on sweetie! We're just like the girlie on the radio said." There were six raiders outside the shop now, six that Arthur could see anyway. "We're just welcoming you to Southend, come out and say hi!" The raider had a shrill laugh.

In the store opposite the group's shelter came a noise, all the raider's whirled and faced it. They exchanged looks before stalking towards it. Before they could get too close the door burst open and a young man dressed in a blue and yellow jumpsuit came running out and bolted down the street. He didn't get far.

At the sound of gunfire Robert glided towards the window. The vault dweller was on the ground, his blood was giving colour to the greyish white sleet that he was sprawled on. Two of the raiders moved in, one brandishing a baseball bat with nails hammered into it, the other with a lead pipe.

Robert couldn't watch.

But he was't going to just let it happen. Before anyone else could stop him he drew his shotgun and took off out the store. Without hesitation he fired the gun into the back one of the raiders heads before the raiders noticed him, brains splattered into the street.

Before the rest of the raiders could react any further Laura kicked the door open and sprayed them with bullets, being careful to avoid Robert. The two raiders that had been stalking the vault dweller turned on Robert, both of them running at him. The caravan guard shot one of them in the chest at point blank range, Arthur killed the other, who had joined the fray.

Robert reloaded his weapon and gave cover to Laura, who was now reloading her assault rifle, having drove the other four raiders away. He and Arthur easily killed the rest.

Once the last raider was down the street was silent once more, the sleet was still falling. All that could be heard were the the moans of pain from the vault dweller. Robert was closest, he moved swiftly towards the wounded man. The raiders had shot him in the leg, belly and shoulder and was bleeding out onto the sleet, yet he still tried to scramble away when the caravan guard came near.

"N-No, please!" He chocked out. Robert froze. He was close enough to see that the man had blood dribbling from his mouth, his breathing was erratic and shallow, he was shaking all over. Robert knew the signs.

"I'm not going to hurt you," He said, holstering his shotgun, "You're okay, you're going to be okay." He lied.

The vault dweller didn't relax. He was confused, distressed and hurting badly, he became even more confused when Laura approached him and crouched down close to him.

"Hold on, we've got you." She said, inspecting his wounds. the merchant would likely make a better medic then she was, but she still wanted to see the damage.

The merchant came out on to the street and joined Arthur, both of the keeping watch.

"Stupid boy, could have been killed." The merchant grumbled.

Arthur sighed, "He's gone into shock."

The merchant blinked, "Who, R-" His eyes widened when he saw the state of the vault dweller, "Oh.." was all he could manage.

"He's not going to make it, is he?" Arthur asked quietly.

The pair of them watched Robert and Laura try to keep the vault dweller calm and as warm and comfortable as they could manage in the harsh British winds. The vault dweller was laying down now, he'd been given painkillers and sleeping drugs. The group didn't carry anything powerful enough to save him.

"No." The merchant said bluntly,

The merchant walked back into the shop and returned shortly with a thick blanket. He crouched down beside Laura and smiled kindly at the vault dweller, he didn't look over twenty, he was still so young.

"It will hurt too much to move you inside son, but this'll keep you warm." He gently put the blanket over the dying man, who lifted his still working arm up over the itchy fabric to pull it closer. With the help of the two caravan guards, the merchant tucked the blanket under the vault dweller's body.

"T-Thank you." The vault dweller managed to splutter, the merchant removed his long coat and made a makeshift pillow for the man. He thanked them again.

The sleet was falling quite heavily now, the wet snow lightly building on the blanket but was swept away by the guards. Arthur stood closer, but didn't watch the man, he considered looting the raider's bodies, but it didn't seem appropriate. Laura stroked the vault dweller's short blond hair, the merchant and Robert kept the snow from building. The merchant was half watching the man's breathing

His breaths were still shallow, hardly noticeable under the thick blanket, they were slower too. The man was asleep, either the drugs had kicked in or his body was shutting down on him. It wasn't long before he stopped breathing altogether, yet the guards and merchant stayed around him a little while longer.

"We can't just leave him here," Laura whispered, "Next to them." She gestured to the raider's corpses.

"Well we ain't gonna bury him, if that's what you're implying." The merchant grumbled.

"No, just move him." Laura replied.

Arthur moved closer to the trio, "We could put him where he was hiding." He suggested, "Where he was brave enough to try to get away."

The group silently agreed, Arthur lifted the vault dweller's body, he was lighter then the guard was expecting. He carried him to the store and found that it was once filled with many tables, chairs and booths, it used to be a fancy restaurant of some sort. Arthur gently placed the young man on a surviving red leather booth. The merchant reclaimed the blanket.

The group of four stood mournfully around the body for a few moment before the merchant turned to leave, collecting his coat on the street. Arthur soon followed, Laura and Robert left last together.

Back inside the shop the group had first taken shelter in Arthur had returned to the window and the merchant spoke quietly to his horse, but Robert just stood silently.

Laura came up next to him, after a few seconds Robert hugged her, she lightly petted his hair, he was shorter than her.

"It isn't fair." He whispered.

"I know." She replied.

* * *

_Level up, New perk: There's no I in Team_

_Killing one of their own will only increase their attack. Loyal to the bitter end, as it should be._


	2. Beside the Seaside

The sun rose sleepily, It's beams were tainted by the pale clouds that hung in the sky, but they still stubbornly shone through. What remained of Southend was bathed in warm light. It had once been a sea side town, the air still smelt clean yet salty.

Arthur and the merchant had risen early, early enough to see the sky change. Laura and Robert still slept, curled up beside one another. Whether they slept soundly was another thing, Arthur took the radio to the other side of their shelter, which used to be a book store. He set the radio on the store counter beside the till and switched it on just as a song was ending.

_"Nothing really matters, anyone can see, nothing really matters... Nothing really matters.. To me."_

The song faded into piano, the merchant lifted his head towards the radio. He was sitting beside his horse, who had been kept inside for the night and was now curled up on the floor like an overgrown dog.

"Good morning Southend!" Came the same perky voice from the night before. "I hope you all slept well, I heard somebody didn't; the gun fire coming from down the high street hasn't been confirmed as raiders but it's highly likely. What or who they ran into is anybodies guess but apparently they took off after a vault kid and after the gunfire no one returned. Who knows, maybe the kid fought back, I'd like to hope that's what happened anyway."

The caravan guard sighed, if only it had gone down that way. The merchant shook his head and lightly petted his horse.

"If you're still blaming yourself for that vaultie's death then I can think of better ways of wasting your time." He growled coldly over the morning news report.

Arthur rolled his shoulders, he was considering arguing back with the merchant but he remembered that he and his friends needed to get paid at the end of their trip. He turned his attention back to the radio.

"...But aside from that I can tell you that we're in for more snow later today, so if you've got places to be, get there now while the ice is melting. But stay on your guard, raiders are still hunting those missing vault dwellers. I don't care if you're a mercenary or a wanderer, raiders ain't picky."

"We should get out early then." Arthur said, the merchant nodded and patted his horse to get it to wake up.

"Come on Rosemary, rise and shine." He said to the paint mare, she got to her hooves and snorted at the rude awakening. The merchant nodded again to Arthur, "Get yours." He said as he dressed the horse in reins and a saddle.

Laura was beginning to stir as Arthur reached the other two guards, she blinked up at him with blue eyes and brushed a stray blonde hair from her eyes, "Morning." She groaned before yawning.

"We're gonna leave before the sleet starts again." Arthur said coolly, he nudged Robert's foot while talking, Robert gave an offended grunt.

"I swear you said that yesterday." Laura rubbed her eyes, "Can't we get breakfast."

"On the way." The merchant interrupted bluntly, "Get your boyfriend up or we'll leave without him."

Breakfast often came from cans, this morning it was two hundred year out of date peaches. They probably weren't as sweet as they once were, the syrup was probably thicker too, but none of them knew any better.

The peaches had been taken from the fancy restaurant and final resting place of the vault dweller. Only the merchant and Arthur had the nerve to go back inside. Laura and Robert chose to loot the corpses of the raiders that were now buried in four inches of half frozen, watery snow.

Ammo was found for their weapons, shot gun shells for Robert and caliber rounds for Arthur and Laura. There wasn't much else, but the merchant took most of the sellable items.

Now they had to walk down closer to the seafront, closer to where the vault was that had been invaded by raiders.

The caravan travelled slowly down the high street in a way that allowed the guards to cover the caravan it'self from all sides. Arthur was at the back and Laura and Robert were leading. The merchant lead his horse and cart between them. They walked in silence, holding their guns, listening for any sign of life.

Soon the guards began to notice each building now was looking slightly better than the last. Closer to the book store some buildings only had one wall remaining, yet most of these were still standing. Laura asked the merchant why.

"They bombed the shit outta the train station but forgot that this place had a seaside." He chuckled to himself, "Probably knew that the people on the beach already got a great tan from those megatons up there." Laura grimaced.

"Most of these people got into the vault, nobody would be lying on a beach if they knew that they were about to be bombed." Robert said quickly, in an attempt to relax Laura.

The merchant sneered, "I was just joking."

Arthur shushed the group, being in an empty high street with tall buildings made their voices echo. All of a sudden the buildings gave way to a blue skeleton of a building, metal strips arched up and criss-crossed downwards. A thicker metal bar separated the arch from the square criss-crosses, a few shards of glass hung from the blue metal bars. _The Royals_ had been crudely painted on a rectangle of blue metal.

"This is it." The merchant whispered.

"You can't be serious." Laura hissed, "This place is barley standing."

"Move it, the shops are underground." The merchant said. Hesitantly, Laura and Robert lead forward, pushing open the mangled metal doors.

Inside was no better then the outside. They stepped out onto the shattered tile floor, coated in melting snow and broken glass from what used to be the domed skylight. Displays stood either side of them, past the broken windows stood old manikins of children, yet their clothes were missing.

"Mind your feet Rosemary," The merchant cooed to his horse, he turned to the Laura and Robert. "Keep moving forward 'till you get to a big opening."

"I don't like this place." Robert muttered as he stepped over a lopsided bench.

"Tuff."

"How come there's no one else about?" Laura asked.

"The place is a secret, with raiders so close it has to be."

Laura hummed as she shuffled through the broken glass, trying to clear a way for the horse. She and Robert made it to the circular centre of the building first, where there was even more broken glass strewn about the damp floor. The shops here were boarded up and there was a collection of ruined tables and chairs in one corner.

"The red one." The merchant said. He gestured to one of the shops, one with an empty red sign above it.

The group began to head towards the ruined shop when they heard laughter behind them.

"Well well well, look what we've got here."

Arthur whirled around and pointed his hunting rifle ahead. He was forced to step back in surprise at the number of raiders that had managed to creep up on the caravan.

"Aww, look how scared the little boy is." One of the female raiders cooed. Arthur recovered from the shock and aimed his weapon, the other guards following suit.

Arthur gritted his teeth and fired his hunting rifle at the female raider before diving behind a fallen table. The shot hit the female raider in the shoulder. Laura and Robert fired at the raiders whilest backing away towards the caravan, the raidiers started shooting back.

The merchant attempted to calm his spooked horse. The mare reared up with frightened whinnies, trying to break free of her reins.

"Do something!" Laura snapped as she cowarded behind the caravan.

The merchant looked from Laura to the raiders, who had now destroyed Arthur's makeshift barricade. He then looked to Rosemary.

"Alright girl, lets get out of here." He muttered. He took out a knife and cut Rosemary free of the caravan, swung himself up onto the saddle and took ahold of the reins. "Go girl, go!" He shouted, kicking his legs and shaking the reins, Rosemary galloped away.

Laura and Robert stared at the merchant in horror. He didn't get far before a raider noticed him getting away and planted a bullet in his skull. The merchant fell from the horse and hit the ground with a thunk, Rosemary continued charging onwards without a rider and out of The Royals.

Arthur crashed in beside Robert, heavily bleeding. "I'm out." He said between breaths, seemingly not caring about the merchant's death.

"What do we do now?" Robert hissed. The raiders had stopped firing, instead they were taunting the guards from the other side of the caravan. Laura surveyed the area.

"We peg it." She whispered, "Split up or something, I'll go back the way we came, you go into the store and Arthur goes down there." She pointed to a ruined door way leading off into darkness.

"How do we know that that goes anywhere." Robert hissed back, "And what about the stuff?"

"I don't care where that goes, I'm bleeding out already." Arthur muttered, he rocked on the balls of his feet. "Ready?"

Laura grimaced. "On the count of three."

A grenade toppled over the caravan and in front of the three guards, "Screw it! Go now!" Laura shouted, taking off with her rifle in hand.

Robert bolted towards the red shop, shouldering the doors open and slamming them shut behind him. Arthur could hear him shouting for help inside the building.

The dark haired guard was knocked down by the explosion, he hissed in pain. His ears were ringing and his legs were burning. The raiders laughter sounded distant.

He struggled to his feet, dropped his empty gun and ran through the broken doors. Pushing himself off of the walls for extra speed and continued running. Arthur could feel the sticky warm blood underneath his leather armour. His chest was starting ache but the adrenalin of fight or flight was pumping around his body, keeping him running, forcing him to ignore his pain.

The raiders were whooping and laughing behind him, but hie didn't care to look. The hallways were dark and he almost stumbled down a metal flight of stairs, he clanged down the spiralling staircase noisily.

Skipping the last few steps and bolting ahead, he could see daylight. But the raiders were close behind, he felt like a fox on the run from the hounds. In his haste he didn't look where he was going, tripping and landing roughly on the concrete ground below him. The ringing came back.

He didn't know what he tripped on, he didn't care. He rolled himself onto his back and saw the raiders. Five of them had followed him, they were walking towards him, walking to mock him. Arthur felt sick, the air smelt salty and it burnt his tired lungs.

"You're all outta luck, mate." The leading raider laughed. He brandished a lead pipe, Arthur noticed that none of them had any guns. He felt even more shamed. He pushed himself backwards with his legs, pawing the ground behind him blindly in search of some sort of weapon.

_I'm going to die,_ He felt a part of him saying. _I'm going to die lying on the floor for a bunch of melee bastards. _

But still he tried to get away, then his hand touched something. Something metal, something gun shaped. Arthur pulled the weapon out from behind his back, a 10mm pistol. He didn't question where it came from, he just aimed at the closest raider, prayed for bullets and squeezed the trigger.

The raider fell to her knees, dead. Arthur shoot twice at the next raider, who had jumped back in surprise, and emptied the rest of the clip onto the last three.

The gunshots echoed around the room before falling silent. The only thing Arthur could hear was his own blood rushing around his ears. He flopped down onto his back and laughed to himself. But once the adrenaline faded the searing pain in his chest and legs returned. The caravan guard shut his eyes and took deep breaths. He'd have to find the strength to get on his feet, or he could wait until someone found him, but that might take too long..

"Did you kill them all?" Arthur's eyes snapped open. He whipped his head around to the source of the voice, his vision blurred in complaint to the sudden movement.

Hidden half in the shadows, curled up with her knees to her chest, was a vault dweller. She stared at Arthur with dark, panicked eyes.

Arthur blinked a few times, he chocked and pushed himself upright. He was just about to speak when he felt the blood rush to his head, the nauseous feeling was too much for him. The ringing in his ears took over, his eyes heavy eyes and his arms gave way beneath him.

The last thing he saw was the vault dweller dart towards him. Her shouts fell on deaf ears.

* * *

_Level up, New perk: Guardian Angel_

_Sometimes things just go your way, and there's no way of explaining it. You're luck is boasted when there seems to be no way out._


	3. Watching Over Us

"Look, whether you like it or not I'm going. You're welcome to join me, just don't stop me."

Arthur marched ahead of the vault dweller, it was more of a hobble than a march, but the vault dweller still had to trot to keep up with his long strides.

"Please mister, you're in no shape to be in the cold and_" Arthur halted and whirled around to face the vault dweller, masking the fact that he nearly lost his balance from the movement.

"Be in the cold?" The caravan guard demanded, he scoffed, "Where else are we supposed to go, it's always bloody cold up here." He turned back and continued walking. "You just don't understand. I need to find my friends and get back to Dartford, coming to Southend was a bad idea."

In truth, Arthur didn't have a plan. The Merchant was the one leading them through Southend, he knew the town, they had just been hired. Now he was dead, and the guards had split. Arthur was stuck babying an adult that had never seen the light of day in her lifetime.

"Well I don't know do I?" Came the exasperated reply, almost echoing Arthur's thoughts, "I don't know anything! I got up rooted and chased out of my home. This isn't what the world is meant to look like." She looked around the ruins of the seaside town and sighed. "Those people who invaded us aren't what people are meant to be like." She looked back up at Arthur, whose full attention was now on the vault dweller, "You're the first one who didn't shoot me on sight."

Arthur froze, he stared back at the vault dweller. At how out of place she seemed. From the thin one piece vault suit that offered no protection from the bitter coldness to how her dark skin and hair contrasted with the snowy grey landscape. Yet the innocence Arthur saw in her features was what struck out the most, such a thing so rarely seen in the wastes, even in children.

The radio's broadcast was ringing in his ears.

The caravan guard nodded, mainly to clear his head. He looked to the ground and then back up to the vault dweller, taking a shaky step forward.

"My name's Arthur." He said, "What's yours?"

The vault dweller blinked before smiling kindly and replying, "Zoey." She offered him a hand, after a moment hesitation, Arthur shook it. Then barked out a laugh at how absurd he felt.

The two parted, an awkward silence threatened to settle, Zoey made sure that it didn't. "You mentioned looking for your friends?" She asked.

"Yeah.." Arthur started to walk again, this time slow enough for Zoey to walk beside him. "I don't know how I'll find them though. No gun, raiders swarming about the place and now.." He glanced at the vault dweller.

"And now me." She finished

"Well.." Arthur searched for the correct wording, "Well you did save me back there, twice."

Zoey frowned, then moved the subject back on course, "What do they look like? Maybe I can help you look."

Arthur tutted as he scanned the tall buildings up on the higher ground. The path he had been chased down had lead to what once was the parking for The Royals, an underpass. Following the road had only brought them closer to the beach and the tattered remains of a theme Royals was perched on a hillside.

"One's blonde and tall, the other is ginger and curly. They've got the same armor as me." He explained while trying to work out a way to scale the hill. It would be impossible in the ice. "They went off in different directions though, Robert is probably still in the Royals, but Laura..." Going back the way they came seemed like the safest bet, Arthur had failed to ask how long he had been unconscious.

Arthur was just about to tell Zoey his plan when he heard a sound. It came from far away, carried on the wind. A crack of gunfire, like distant thunder.

"Hide." Arthur ordered.

Zoey blinked, confused, "What?"

The caravan guard shook his head and grabbed Zoey by the arm, practically dragging her back to the underpass. The pair crouched down in the shadows, silent. There was no sound for a long time.

The vault dweller started getting agitated, but fear of the unknown kept her quiet. Arthur strained his ears to listen. They had been given the blessing of an early warning, now they had to wait for the threat.

"There's only one of them." Zoey suddenly hissed. Arthur blinked and scanned the area, he couldn't see anyone. He could hear footsteps, but their owner couldn't be seen. "He's coming now."

As if on cue, a raider wandered into view. Clad in a leather jacket and baggy sweat pants. He held a combat knife under one arm whilst he rubbed his hands together, bringing them up to his mouth and blowing warm air into his palms. He stopped outside the underpass and stared into the darkness.

The caravan guard and vault dweller both held their breath.

"Where the hell is she." The raider grumbled after a moment, turning his back to the underpass. He pulled a cigarette and lighter out from a pocket, lighting the former a taking a long drag before puffing the smoke out between his lips.

Arthur nudged Zoey, signalling for her to follow him. They managed to creep a little way into the underpass before the raider turned back towards them.

"Hey! Think you can hide from me?" His voice echoed down the underpass. The pair whirled around. The raider stood, knife in one hand, a cigarette hanging from his lips, with grin on his face. "Ohh, lookie here, another vaultie huh?" He cooed. "I'm gonna cut you up, little girl."

Before the raider could taunt any further, Arthur ran at him. Tackling the surprised raider to the ground. The caravan guard felt his whole body complain when he and the raider hit the ground, his breath hitched in his throat.

"Bloody hell." The raider snapped, shoving the wounded caravan guard off himself. He watched with slight amusement as Arthur rolled to the side, curling in on himself, groaning in pain. "I didn't even do anything to you." He muttered.

The raider was quick to his feet, kicking Arthur in the side for good measure (and hearing a crack from underneath the leather armor). He turned back to Zoey, who was frozen half in the underpass, unsure of what to do.

"...God damn it... run..." Arthur groaned.

"Hey now, don't listen to him pretty girlie. Why don't we just have a chat huh?" The raider drew his knife and waved it at the vault dweller as he spoke. "Don't go running away now." Zoey took a step back as the raider stalked forwards.

"I'm going to_" The raider was silenced by the same sound Arthur had heard before. The gunfire that sounded of a distant clap of thunder rung through the air. The raider fell to his knees as a bullet pierced his skull.

Arthur and Zoey stayed dead still. The thunder like clap echoing out until it fell silent once more. Even then, the pair stayed frozen.

Slowly and with care, Arthur pulled himself upright, wincing in pain. He automatically raised his arms in surrender. When he heard no reaction, he hauled himself to his feet. Turning in the direction of the shot, the opposite direction to which the raider fell.

"Sniper." He muttered, taking a hesitant step back.

He turned back to Zoey. She was still, staring at the raiders corpse with the same fearful eyes Arthur had seen before passing out. The caravan guard clicked his tongue and knelt down (with some difficulty) beside the corpse, taking the combat knife and the lighter.

He hissed in pain as he pulled himself into the standing position once more, only then did Zoey look up. Arthur staggered towards her, flipping the knife over in his hand, well aware that he was likely being watched. He offered the handle to the vault dweller.

"You need to learn... learn how to protect yourself.. from the real world." He found himself wheezing slightly, the pain in his chest beginning to bubble up yet again. Hesitantly, Zoey took the combat knife. Arthur then explained the plan he had made before the raider had shown up

Climbing back up the steel staircase took much longer than Arthur would have liked. Zoey had to help support him up three quarters of them. During this time, the vault dweller admitted to using her pip-boy's motion sensor and compass to, effectively, see the raider through the walls. Arthur didn't understand how that would work, so had Zoey talk him through pip-boys. It was mainly to pass the time.

Once they reached the top, Arthur held up a hand. He crept closer to the opening where he had left Robert and Laura, and peeked in through the archway.

The circular centre of the Royals was in more of a state than it was before. Pieces of the caravan cart joined the broken glass in littering the shattered title floor. Arthur could see, what he guessed to be his own blood in sticky pools on the floor, a black mark showed where the cart once stood, any stock they'd had had now blasted to smithereens.

Other than that, the place seemed empty.

But then again, just one raider could probably beat the pair right now.

Arthur signalled to Zoey to follow. They sneaked over to the red signed store that Robert had dashed into. The caravan guard pushed the door open and held it for Zoey.

The store's floor was a jumble of dirty clothing. Racks were falling apart, the garments spilling onto the dusty floor. Here too, were skylights, the first few flakes of snow were drifting down through the hole in the roof. The place seemed clear of anything of any value.

Arthur paused for a moment, standing just inside the door beside Zoey. The merchant had said that the trading shops were hidden, a secret from the raiders. What if Robert had lead them right to the shop. What if the place was filled with raiders right now.

He decided to bite the bullet.

"Hello? Is anyone there? We could use some help.. Please?" The caravan guard wandered further into the store, ignoring Zoey's quiet protesting.

There was a sudden clanging of metal, not unlike the sound of Arthur charging down the steel staircase. A bearded man appeared from a pair of escalators that had gone unnoticed by both Arthur and Zoey. The man, wearing a trench coat, pointed a hunting rifle at Arthur, who once again, raised his arms.

The man frowned, then smirked. "Hey kid, these two aren't part of your crew, are they?"

Another clanging of metal sounded as a second person trotted up them. The face was familiar. The ginger haired caravan guard grinned wildly when he saw the black haired one.

"Arthur! You're alive!"

_Level up, New perk: Blue skies_

_Seeing the outside for the first time can really make you giddy, and happiness is contagious. This good morale makes your team better at shooting things, apparently._


	4. Hornet's Nest - Part 1

"She could be anywhere by now Robert, where would we even start?"

Robert shifted uncomfortably where he was standing, staring down at the tattered map. He refused to meet Arthur's gaze.

"Are you saying that we should give up? That she's…" Robert swallowed hard before finishing his sentence. "..dead?"

Arthur sighed, he lent down on the rusted metal table with a map of Southend and the surrounding area taped to it's surface. The cold of the metal stung Arthur's aching limbs, telling the caravan guard just how tired he was.

"You know I don't mean it like that." Arthur said in a lower voice, Robert tilted his head downwards, "A bunch a raider's couldn't take down our Laura, you know that."

Robert's head was so close to the table, Arthur was sure that he was in his own little world. The caravan guard pressed on none the less. "We made it, didn't we? And I was the one bleeding to death." The raider's following me only had melee weapons, the one's with guns must have followed Laura, a thought in Arthur's head echoed. The guard did his best to keep his expression neutral. "She's smart Robert, she know's what she's doing."

Arthur knelt down on the floor, his metal knee pads clinking gently on the concrete floor. From this angle he would have been able to see the other caravan guard's features, if not for his disheveled, auburn hair hanging down in front of his face, rendering the other man's expression hidden and unreadable.

"I know you care about her, you love her and you're worried, I get it." Arthur said quietly, "But when we find her the last thing she'll need is to see you tearing yourself up over this, alright? She'll need you ready to kick some arse alongside her, we'll reassess our little team and get back on track."

For the second time since the two had been reunited, Robert stared up at Arthur with new hope in his mossy green eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, but the pair had only been separated mer hours. Robert smiled weakly and straightened up, "I hope you're right."

Arthur felt himself hesitate, but hoped that Robert didn't notice. He pulled himself back on to his feet, wobbling on the way up. His legs gave dull complains, but didn't give out from under him.

"By the looks of it kid," The bearded man who (had introduced himself as Mister Boris and) had brought Arthur and Zoey down to the store, approached the pair. "You could use some help, or a distraction." He leant on the table, looking from one caravan guard to the other.

"Depends what you mean by distraction," Arthur said quickly, casting a worried glance to Robert.

Mister Boris chuckled, "I mean work, boys, we're lacking on defence here. And I know there's only two of you and you've got your own problems as it is. Buut, if you helped us, we'd have more arms to help you out."

The two caravan guards exchanged looks, Arthur turned to Mister Boris, "We're listening."

The bearded man grinned. "Don't know if you boys have noticed, but we're all cooped up down here, normally we'd take up both levels of the Red Store. But we're all stuck down here in the basement."

Robert frowned, "Sorry, I thought you stayed down here to keep this place a secret."

Mister Boris' thick eyebrows knitted together, "Who in the hell told you that."

"Our merchant." Robert replied

"That body outside." Arthur added

Mister Boris snorted dismissively, folding his arms. "That prick's probably been bullshitting you the moment you stepped foot in Southend; bet he told you they bombed the train station too."

At the pair's look of surprise, the bearded man barked out a laugh that echoed around the cold concrete walls of the basement. A few traders glanced their way, but made no complaint, clearly used to the older man.

"Johnson's a compulsive liar, cheats at poker too. Only told people that about the train station because he don't like the ghouls that feed on the irradiation up there. I say good riddance. We'll still bury him though." Mister Boris shook his head, "But anyways, we're all stuck down here because we lost our mercs. Either of you two seen Southend's theme park?"

The pair shook their heads, Mister Boris sighed, "No wonder you believed that arse." He muttered, "Well that's the base for a group of mercenaries, call themselves Adventure Mercs. They used to guard the Red Store in exchange for supplies and free trading. One day they all got called back 'cause of some disaster, then never came back. That was a few weeks ago now but because they left us the place went to shit. Raider's started popping out the ground like daisies, bunch a kids got killed, including our doctor and our Mayor. That's why I'm in charge now."

"Do you know what this disaster was?" Robert asked.

"At first we thought the radio tower was having some hiccups again." To answer the confused looks of the caravan guards, Mister Boris said. "Southend radio station is inside the theme park, sometimes people don't like what the lady on air says. So they try to lob grenades in through her windows."

"But the radio's still on." Arthur mused, Mister Boris nodded.

"We noticed that, so we thought it was something bigger. Either that or they found a better work placement, lady on the radio says everything's sunny days but we've got no arms to protect ourselves. I can't spare the men to send a message, I'd be willing to give you two team a meal, roof and bed for the night if you'll help us out. Maybe even some goods."

Arthur paused, then folded his arms, "What about Zoey?"

Mister Boris took a moment to scan the basement. "We'll babysit your little vaultie, but we can't keep her here forever, once you're done you'll take her back."

The caravan guards agreed to the terms, it was probably the best deal they could find in a time like this. If they could stall long enough, and if Zoey behaved herself, she could live here safely for a few weeks. Long enough for the group to reassess and work out what to do with the vaultie.

Robert had decided to make a plan of action, which to Arthur's annoyance, involved making lists and copying out maps. The dark haired caravan guard choose to leave the auburn one to the planning, Arthur decided to explore the basement.

Everything in the basement seemed to share the same theme; cold and grey, broken up with the odd splash of red here and there, sometimes a burning barrel or two. For a 'cooped up' basement, the place was surprisingly roomy, although for a store, the place looked more like a hovel.

Behind the broken, steel, escalator the roof had fallen in, the rubble piled up against a back wall. Three children were playing amongst it, a women stood nearby, chiding the children for pushing or throwing stones. Beside the rubble stood a neat row of checkouts and tills where four guards, clad in the same armour as Arthur and Robert, sat and smoked. They group engrossed in some kind of card game.

Three quarters of the basement seemed devoted to accommodation, with sleeping areas ranging from roll out sleeping mats on the floor to metal framed bunk beds. Medical folding screens or cloth hung from sticks acted as walls to separate families and rooms. It was unsurprising, this was likely how the basement was used before the merchants and traders were herded down.

The remaining quarter of the basement had been set up as a makeshift shop. Tables with guns laid out; clothing racks bearing armour and pre-war fashion. A man in a dirty white apron was serving grilled food to residents and in the far corner stood a lone, steel gurney. Perched atop the gurney was Zoey, she chatted to an old women with a woolen scarf wrapped around her neck.

Upon realising that most of the groups tradeable stock had been blown up by raiders, Arthur decided to check on Zoey. He hoped that he could save her from whatever stories some old women was feeding her. The vaultie smiled at the caravan guard as he wandered over, favouring one leg more than the other.

"If you're still aching boy then maybe you should buy some meds." The old women said.

"I'd love to, but I don't have anything to barter." Arthur said somewhat bitterly.

"I've got some pain killers and stimpaks if you want." Zoey offered, she patted a pale brown fabric bag she held on her lap.

The old women held up her hand, "Now now girlie, you don't need to go sharing out your good for free. If you're gonna survive on the surface, you gotta learn to barter. You can't just go around showing off what you have or you'll get yourself hunted down and killed for what's in that little bag."

Zoey flinched while Arthur simply stared at the old women. She's not wrong.

"Well he kinda saved me." Zoey said meekly.

The old women seemed to consider this. "It's always good to repay people, but don't let some tough mercenary bully you into paying them."

"I'm not a mercenary," Arthur said, offended. "I'm a caravan guard."

The old women looked the caravan guard up and down, "Where's your caravan."

This stumped Arthur, he sniffed and said. "Your Mayor Boris won't let Zoey stay here."

"What!? Why not?" Zoey asked with sudden panic.

"Oh that's my husband," The old women said almost dismissively. "He thinks that more people down here will cause more trouble. If anything, more people would give us more defence and trades. We've lost a lot of good people, but we need to rebuild."

Arthur became less defensive towards Misses Boris, "He said you lost a doctor."

Misses Boris sighed and nodded, "A good one too, the flu is gonna be hell cooped up down here."

"I'm a doctor." Zoey said abruptly.

Now it was Misses Boris' turn to stare, while Arthur blinked in surprise. Zoey shied away almost immediately after speaking.

"Really?" The old women asked.

"Well I was going to be." The vaultie said quickly, "Before.. you know."

"You seem pretty young to be a doctor." Arthur pointed out.

"Really?" Zoey asked.

"I'd say." Misses Boris said, "Most doctors take several years to earn their degree."

"They started teaching me at fifteen."

Both Misses Boris and Arthur went wide eyed, "Is that what they're doing in the vaults nowadays?" The old women asked, "I was looking after my sisters at that age."

Arthur shook his head, "That makes her less likely to get thrown out, right?"

"If my husband throws her out I'm going with her." Misses Boris smiled, "She's not going anywhere, if he gets rid of a fully trained doctor I'm sure the Red Store will start a riot."

"Almost. Almost fully trained, I never got my doctorate." Zoey corrected her.

"Just don't tell him that sweetheart." Misses Boris turned back to Arthur, "So what are you and the boy doing now." She asked, gesturing to Robert.

"We've gotta look for our friend, she's still out there." Arthur glanced back at Mister Boris, "But your husband wants us to get your guards back. I'm not sure what to do."

"Go get your friend first." Misses Boris said sternly, "We've been weeks without those mercs, we'll survive a little longer." She nodded to Zoey, "Now we have a healer, so we'll hold out even longer. The more of you getting those mercs back here, the better."

"Well that makes things less awkward." Arthur said after a moment.

"And don't worry, I know a lot of you think vaulties are a chore to look after and teach." She ignored Arthur's pained look and Zoey's frustration. "I'll look after Miss Zoey, I've raised my kids to live in this world, I can raise another."

* * *

"So where are we going?" Arthur asked. The two caravan guards were trudging back into the highstreet, the brittle sleet cracking underfoot as more, thick clumps of snow fell around them. The pair had managed to scrounge some snow chains for their shoes from the Red Store, stopping them from slipping.

"Victoria Shopping centre." Robert said triumphantly.

Arthur almost stopped where he was walking. Robert produced a hand drawn map.

"I've been talking to some people here, they say that that is where the slaves are kept." Robert stated, pointing to a grey square on the map.

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed, "We've gone from Laura being stronger than that to her being a slave?"

"No I just, I just want to be sure. We scout it out, if she's not there then we get out."

The dark haired caravan guard narrowed his eyes at the auburn one, who was avoiding eye contact.

"Robert." Arthur hissed, the other guard looked up at him innocently "We know how you get about slaves."

Robert pursed his lips, Arthur folded his arms. "I promise not to dive in blindly."

He said.

"Good." Arthur started.

"Unless they have Laura locked up." He added.

Arthur threw his hands up in exasperation. "You really think she wants to see you get shot down by raiders. She saves your arse more than I do, do you think that's going to help her."

"Fine, not blindly. Just diving." Robert corrected himself, Arthur shook his head.

"How much ammo did you get?" Arthur asked, trying to change the subject a little.

Robert smile turned mischievous, "I managed to win a few games of poker against the guards at the Red Store. Considering I was betting you're empty hunting rifle and and last of my shotgun shells, I think I did pretty well."

"What did you get?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Oh only two dozen slugs and one, a half dozen .308 rounds and two grenades." Robert shrugged. "I didn't want to rob them blind, they need some protection for themselves."

Arthur nodded, "That's fine, I got five stimpaks from Zoey. They're meant to be for my injuries but, I don't need them."

"Yeah right." Robert muttered.

"How far?"

"Forward, there's some minor irradiation but not as bad as the train station, apparently."

"_How far?_" Arthur repeated himself

"Top of the high street, look." Robert pointed ahead of the pair. Through the thick snow and crumbling buildings stood a more sturdy pair of buildings. One red brick and a similar metal frame work as the Royals. The building seemed to creek with the soft winds, the same winds that carried shouts and hollers from within the building itself.

Once Arthur and Robert arrived at the building remains, the former stared at the skeletal structure skeptically.

"Really? Other one of these?" Arthur sighed and lead Robert to a still standing wall. The pair crouched down as Robert fumbled with a second, carefully handdrawn map.

"This one has buildings in the basement, they'll be down there." He cast a glance down the shopping centre and chewed his lip. "Raiders could be anywhere though."

"Keep to the shadows then, and keep quiet."

The pair drew their weapons, Robert handing Arthur his hunting rifle's ammo, the latter putting the .308 rounds into a pouch on his belt. They stepped carefully through the metal bars and ruined window frames. Broken glass crunched underfoot. Robert idly noted that there was considerably less glass in this shopping centre compared to the one that had been supposedly cleared up.

Arthur dipped into the shadows along the walls inside the building, avoiding the ominous glow from the burning barrels scattered around. The two of them crept as quietly as they could along the wall, their leather armour betraying them with muffled squeaks and complaints.

The shouts from below where getting louder, the wide corridor soon gave way to a tall dome building, not unlike the one in the Royals. Expect this one dropped down and soared high in the middle, rusted escalators forming bridges to each floor.

The sight would have been impressive, if not for the way the raiders had soiled the architecture. Graffiti and blood decorated the walls, empty bottles and syringes littering the ground, along with the odd body or limb. Arthur and Robert tiptoed into a shop and surveyed the shopping centre through the paneless window frame.

"Where are the slaves." Arthur hissed, keeping his voice as quiet as possible.

Robert looked around, clutching his combat shotgun. "The lower section would be more intact, right?"

"I guess so." Arthur muttered.

"But they might want the best part for themselves." Robert contradicted himself.

Arthur sighed, "Raiders aren't really the most intelligent of people."

"I think they'd know the difference between wet and cold or dry and.. slightly less cold." Robert whispered back.

"I doubt it."

Robert allowed a smirk as he adjusted how he was crouched and glanced up and down. "The raiders are probably downstairs, if we can just get to the edge and look down we'll be able to see how many there are and if there's any slaves."

"If Laura isn't there, we bail."

The auburn caravan guard shifted again and looked away, Arthur rolled his eyes.

"...And if she is?" Robert asked.

Arthur was about to reply when a third voice interrupted him, "What the hell?"

Both caravan guards whirled towards the source of the voice, a raider stood at the back of the shop, staring back. There was a moment of panic as both parties grabbed their weapons and pointed them at the enemy. The caravan guards aimed down the sights of their hunting rifle and combat shotgun; the raider's pistol clicked as he cocked it.

Arthur held his finger over the trigger of his rifle, if he fired then the whole shopping centre would hear. If the raider shot Robert then everyone would hear, Arthur would kill the raider, but would not be able to get Robert out. The raider and other guard seemed to come to the same conclusion, the raider desperately trying to work out if he valued his life or his pride more.

The raider opened his mouth, "Hey! We've got a couple o_" He was silenced when the butt of Arthur's rifle met his jaw. The dark haired guard grabbed the raider by his tattered coat before his conscious body could hit the floor. The caravan guards stood in silence.

"What's that mate?" Another voice called, the pair stared at each other with panic.

"Er, nothing. Just a.. pigeon." Robert answered back without warning. Arthur flailed his free hand at him in horror.

There was another moment of silence before a chuckle broke it, "You get pecked in the balls or somethin', mate?" A chorus of laughter echoed around the building, Robert grimaced.

"No I.." Robert cleared his throat, making his voice sound as gruff as possible, "Stupid pigeon scared me."

"Oh he's scared of birds now." A second voice shouted, starting off another bout of laughter.

The laughter soon died and no voices called back to the apparent raider upstairs. Robert grinned and turned to Arthur, who just stared back incredulously.

"Come on then." Robert said, his voice sounding cheerful despite the situation.

The other caravan guard simply shook his head and followed the first. The pair crept towards the edge of floor. A twisted metal barrier hopefully blocking them from view as the floor gave way to the lower sections of the shopping centre.

Arthur peered over the mangled metal and examined the lower section. Several raiders were sprawled out on worn tables and chairs, an eighth leant on what appeared to be a bar, drinking with another five raiders. Another pair wandered into view and began shouting at one sleeping on a couch. Arthur grimaced.

"There's a lot of them." He muttered.

"Is Laura down there?" Robert hissed as he watched Arthur's back.

The dark haired guard adjusted his angle, getting a better view of what was below them. He squinted down at the shops surrounding the apparent _'common room'_. Despite the shops being windowless and dirty, they seemed more intact than the ones down Southend High Street. Arthur grimaced again once he got a better look inside.

In one shop, a dozen slaves huddled together for warmth, most of them having been striped of armour and winter clothing and left with rags. In a second store, a group of children were being guarded by a raider and his dog, the thin children shivering with either cold or fear. Or both. Further away Arthur could see a trio of women in a store, clinging to each other, one of them crying silently.

"There's a lot of slaves too." Arthur breathed, looking back to the raiders.

"What are we gonna do?" Robert asked hesitantly.

"There's no way in hell we can fight all of them and get away alive." The first caravan guard whispered. The second looked away.

"It's not safe here." Arthur insisted.

Robert hesitated a moment longer before nodding. "Let's go then."

Arthur nodded back, the pair began to creep back towards the shadows when a growling bark stopped them. The pair froze and listened to the commotion below.

"There's one of those little mercenary rats in the underpass!" One raider hollered to the rest of the group. Arthur and Robert exchanged looks.

The sound of boots hitting tiled floors and bodies scrambling for weapons signified the raiders preparing to overkill a single mercenary. The two caravan guards took this opportunity to stand up and run. Just as the pair straightened up a jarring crack of a hunting rifle rattled off the walls. Robert cried out and tumbled back to the floor, clutching his shoulder.

"There's another two rats up 'ere!" The shooter called out, she perched at the very top of the upper escalators. She pulled back the bolt on her rifle and took aim once more.

Arthur grabbed Robert around his chest, pulling the smaller man onto his feet. He shoved him towards the shadows as he retrieved his own hunting rifle and fired a blind shot at the raider. The _chink_ of bullet on metal showing that the guard had missed his shot.

The caravan guard turned and fled, pushing the shocked Robert ahead of him. The auburn guard stumbled but managed to stay upright. The pair sprinting as fast as they could to get away from the mass of raiders.

There was a _clink_ as a silver can landed in front of them, Robert ignored it but when Arthur looked down he instantly recognized what it was.

"Smoke grenade!" He called to his fellow guard, he grabbed Robert's good shoulder and tried to drag him away from the offending object.

With a hiss and a bang, the can began emitting a ghostly white smoke. It quickly rose up and engulfed the room, raiders and caravan guards alike. The smoke attacked their lungs and eyes, bringing tears to their eyes and forcing them to choke for air.

Arthur gave a harsh cough and dropped to the floor, the cold titles hitting his cheek and dazing him further. On the floor the air was clearer and the caravan guard was able to gulp in the cleaner air and watch the five raiders wearing gasmasks swam around him.

Robert had managed to get further away and out of the smokes grip, but he had been caught by a pair raiders and shoved back into the smoke with Arthur. Both caravan guards laid on the floor gasping.

Seven raiders in gasmasks stood in and around the smoke, watching, their expressions unreadable. They watched both the caravan guards and fellow (maskless) raiders choke on the smoke. Staring blankly.

For the smoke victims, the world became a foggy mess, swimming in salty tears. Their bodies getting just enough air to stay awake, but not enough to get away.

The caravan guards laid on the floor, helpless.


End file.
